


Seed

by kylocatastrophe



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Animal Traits, Animal Transformation, Animalistic, Body Horror, Body Non-Con, Fox Hux, Horror, M/M, Masturbation, Psychological Horror, That's Not How The Force Works, Transformation, petting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-24 14:37:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8375950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kylocatastrophe/pseuds/kylocatastrophe
Summary: Things are happening to Hux that are beyond his control, Kylo is frustrating and infuriating and is the absolute worst thing to exist on his ship. Hux is fed up with all of it, and of course, he demands that Kylo fix it, because obviously, it's his fault. He isn't supposed to enjoy it, but he accidentally does. Just a little.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Okay. There are some sorta graphic descriptions of body horror transformations below with a huge helping of related psychological stress. It's a little weird.  
> Tags will change as more is added so please continue to refer to them to avoid material you don't like! Thanks!
> 
> Beta'd by Saltandlimes omfg I am so blessed (THANK YOU)

It began with an ache in his mouth. Hux checked his teeth, found nothing odd, and brushed them as per his morning regimen. Still, his jaw hurt, a persistent, piercing kind of pain that burrowed into the bone like a termite in wood, and made itself a damned colony. Pain killers were his main company for the duration of his day.

The next morning, he woke up with blood in his mouth. Nearly gagging, Hux rushed to the bathroom to spit, and felt something in his mouth give. A bell-like clink sounded, and he opened his eyes to see a tooth. Stark white, but bloody enamel in harsh contrast with the black ceramic of his sink. With his tongue, he groped about his mouth, feeling the seams between his teeth, and those that were loose. Another unseated itself under the tip of his tongue, and Hux spat it out with more blood.

Excruciating pain lanced through his jaw, and he watched, with a muted kind of horror as his reflection sprouted two sharp teeth in place of those he lost. Hux pulled out a molar with his fingers, and the gathering pain bloomed into another strange tooth, longer, more of an oblong shape than the square, human molar. This one had three sharp cusps that made it hard for him to close his mouth. His sinuses ached, and that pain heralded two teeth from his upper jaw. They ground against his existing orthodontia, which uprooted even more. That seemed to be the extent of the damage, the pain ebbing enough to let him wash his face and rush to the bridge.

Hux was thirty minutes late to his shift, mouth pressed closed. He hoped that his lips didn’t feel as pushed out by the new canines framing his teeth as it felt.  _ Scissoring shut into gaps, Hux had watched them erupt from his gums, too thick for his small human mouth. A startling moan had forced itself out of his open throat. He had coughed a couple more of his adult teeth into the sink, and cleaned them up with hurried movements. _ But on the bridge - in the tenuous, shaken now - he felt Ren’s eyes on his back, heard him shift his weight. He pushed him out of his mind and carried on.

He left the bridge with a sharp turn and clipped heels, pace measured like clockwork just as the seconds ticked over to shift change. Hux couldn’t keep himself to perfect time, rushed, and stumbled to the door to his quarters.

The mirror was ignored as he washed and readied for bed. Just as ignored as his tablet, as his grumbling stomach, as his abandoned uniform, half folded over the back of his desk chair. Hux collapsed onto the bed, meticulous schedule ruined by that trembling pit of fear in his stomach.

Sleep eluded him, and he was actually anxious about waking up to find something else… changing, something else different. He had tried to research the new teeth, which seemed as equally felid as they seemed canid, and it ultimately drove him to hurl the datapad across the room. No scans led to any solid information. Hux clutched to his sheets and comforter, nail beds and cuticles itching as he rubbed his nails over the fabric.

Over and over, pulling and pushing the comforter under his fingers. The sound his trimmed nails made skipping over the synthetic fibers calmed him enough to finally fall asleep. Hux kept scratching.

The third morning, Hux voided more teeth in the ‘fresher sink. The pain had woken him up early, and by the time he was done, his alarm still hadn’t sounded in the bedroom. He stared at his reflection, red hair frazzled, sticking to his forehead, over his cheekbones, framing his eyes. Flecks of gold glittered back at him in the sterile ‘fresher light, and he leaned over the bloody sink.

Despite his stress and rough sleeping, his eyes seemed brighter, and the reason presented itself as his vision cleared a little. The waterline of his eyelids had darkened, the wet flesh verging on something closer to ashy grey, bleeding out under his pale lashes like eyeliner. Hux washed his face, eyes screwed shut, hoping against hope that he was hallucinating, that maybe it actually was makeup, and this was a sick joke, and he’d airlock whoever had done this to him-

Twin icy-green eyes stared back at him, with the same dark lining.

Hux turned away from his reflection, and dressed mechanically. He scarcely checked his hair before the door to his quarters hissed shut. He took the long way to the bridge, avoiding officers, the lights, looks, eyes.

He took his position, back straight, arms folded at his perfect parade rest, cap pulled low. He received his reports, gave his orders with tight lips, and counted. The seconds refused to bleed into hours or even minutes, and Hux tucked in for the long haul shift. It dragged like cold molasses, slow, but far from sweet.

He had been doing pretty well until he felt Ren behind him again, and realized the brute had followed him from the bridge. Hux’s about face was flawless on his heel, and he opened his mouth to deliver his usual, sharp dialogue, eyes narrowed. Ren’s gloved hand was at his chin, keeping his jaw pried. 

“What have you done, General.”

Hux was startled to hear his line in Ren’s voice, mechanically distorted through the helmet and mask. He yanked away from Ren’s hand, and spat out a quick, “I don’t know what you think you mean.”

Kylo grabbed him again, this time, his thumb tugged at his cheek, pulling down from his eye. An exposed, black waterline stared back, edged by fine, red-gold lashes. He hands pushed back, feeling his ears, lifting his hair. It was too long for regulation, but this was Hux. The General. He made a noise behind his mask, and then let him go.

Hux yelped, the sound erupting from his chest. It had no business coming from him, a sound like that, a sound like… a dog? He was left rubbing his face, trying not to whimper. His fingers itched. The impressions from Kylo’s gloves burned on his cheeks, and now his ears itched furiously. Kylo was already a flash of annoying black robes on black halls.

He slipped into his own quarters, covering his ears, palms pressing them back against his skull. Fingers twitching, he rubbed them as the burning itch erupted on his skin again.

It was Ren’s fault, it had to be. The destroyed consoles, missing supplies, and now this, it all had to be. Ren was the only outlier on his ship, the only thing different, the only thing new, only thing unofficial, outside his records, control and jurisdiction. 

The gloves were torn off, nails catching in the leather until he all but flung them off, heart tight with a sudden fit. He was angry, in a way he hadn’t been since he was a child. A terrified, pounding kind of anger that filled up his throat, suffused his breath and made his chest heave. It was easy to blame this on Kylo. He didn’t know what was happening to him, beyond the fact that he was changing. No, something was changing him, and now he could feel it squirming under his skin.

Hux scratched, jacket and shirt discarded to get at the itch. His nails still got caught, pulling at his flesh with claws rather than fingernails, really. He left red lines on his arms, even angrier than he was. A shiver finally caught up with him, whimpering. The sound of his door made him freeze, made an even more embarrassing whine cut out of his lips.

Light from the hall flooded in, spilled over Hux, all crouched down on the floor, feral for a split moment, eyes wide. Flat discs of green and yellow, shining back until the light was cut by another shadow. Then the door hissed shut again, and Hux jumped back to his feet. He was at once himself and beside himself. It was Kylo, he was sure, he just couldn’t see, blinded.

He rubbed at his eyes, brow furrowed. “Request entry next time,” Hux said, clipped, as if he hadn’t just been scratching at his arms or been on the floor, growling. He hadn’t expected Kylo to be right there in front of him, too close, and he flinched away.

“Oh, Hux.” Kylo grabbed his hand, pulling it up. Gloves rubbed against sore nail beds, and Hux bit out another whimper, teeth clicking shut right behind it. The bastard didn’t even remove his helmet, and his free hand just skittered over the surface. He hated how his name sounded through it. The scratchy static of the vocoder made his ears sting.

Kylo snatched up his hands again, and his breath.

“What is this, what is  _ happening _ ?” Hux was about to make more demands, when he felt it, a stroke all the way down his back, drawing some kind of pressure and heat to his spine. And then he saw it, black worms in the dark, squirming on threads against Kylo’s gloves, over his hands, up his arms like mirages, really. There, but not, but he could feel them. 

Kylo squeezed his hand, not enough to hurt, but it was enough to make Hux look away from the little black worms. “I didn’t… mean to agitate you.”

Hux’s laugh was short and sharp, just two of them. “Your entire stay on my ship has been constant agitation.” He yanked his hand away for sure this time, stooping to pick up his shirt. Rather, he’d intended to, but ended up just staying there, half on his knees. His short, manicured nails were no longer short, nor manicured. They were thick, black claws, set in above pebbly, darkened skin that he could only describe as something like… pads.

“I may or may not have brought a certain artefact on board… and it seems you may… or may not have come in contact with it.” For once, Kylo looked thoughtful. “Or, perhaps it came in contact with you.”

He wasn’t given any time to respond, swept up like a child. “Don’t worry, if you let it happen… maybe it won’t hurt so much.”

Hux stared up at the underside of Kylo’s jaw, indignant. “I don’t want this! I can’t be like this! On the bridge - holo calls-” He was dropped on the bed, “-Kylo!”

He was stunned speechless by the way Kylo’s fingers traced down his back. He growled the second time, feeling an entirely unfamiliar pressure build along his spine. Hux swam back to full attention in time to hear the mask decompress, and Kylo talking to himself again.

“There it is, once this comes undone, it’ll be so easy.” Kylo was petting him, kneading his fingers along the ridge of Hux’s spine. He focused on the lumbar, and Hux slumped beneath him, forward onto his arms. He felt the dip in the bed from Kylo leaving his helmet there, and then cool air as Kylo’s large hands slipped down his thighs and took his pants down with them.

The pressure built again, and Hux was suddenly aware that it was his spine growing longer. Flesh and bone pushing from his pelvis, and Kylo seemed to be pulling it out of him, coaxing this thing - a tail? Hux shuddered as Kylo stroked it, a thin, whiplike thing of pink skin and knobby bones. He whimpered when the touch disappeared, and felt the new appendage add itself to his spatial awareness.

Kylo’s hand reappeared, gloveless, in his hair. He combed through it, then cradled his head. Traced nonsensical lines against his scalp. Hux felt him lean over, and then lips against the shell of his ear. It seemed a lot higher than it should be, and the tip… seemed to be lined up against Kylo’s nose. His breath tickled, so it twitched, and Hux froze. 

He bolted off the bed, skittering away from Kylo and his fingers, hindered by the fact that his briefs and jodhpurs were bunched around his knees.. His claws clicked on the floor, and he ended up pressed against the wall halfway between the bed and the ‘fresher because he’d caught his reflection in the polished floor. Red ears with dark tips, surrounding a shock of creamy fluff, were perched atop his head. Hux flinched at the feeling of something soft against his thigh. His tail, the kriffing tail, still anemic, still growing out fur as rusty as his hair.

A hissing growl bubbled up in Hux’s throat, and the noise was embarrassingly impossible to stop. It faded into a whine only when Kylo ruffled his hair and pushed his ears back, letting them flop back forward to scratch behind them.

“I don’t… want this,” Hux said, whimpering more than actually speaking, his mouth full of sharp teeth and a broad tongue. He heard Kylo breathe in, the rattle of his lungs as he heaved a sigh. Hux looked up at him, and grudgingly let himself be pulled into his lap, and back onto the bed. Eventually, he melted into Kylo’s warmth.

“But look at you,” Kylo murmured, settling Hux upright. His hands were broad over Hux’s torso, one settling over his fine collarbones, while the other skipped down to his hip. “Now your looks match your cunning…. You little fox.” Kylo pinched him, and Hux yipped.

He jerked and clawed out of his arms, tail fluffed up and arched angrily. Hux crawled across the bed on all fours - undignified - and put as much distance between himself and Kylo as he could, half slipping off the far side of the honestly too-large king. His ears were back, pressed flat against his skull. This had to be some sick fantasy for Kylo, a game, otherwise he wouldn’t be smiling at him like that.

Kylo reached out to him, and the black, wormy pressure of the Force bled from his fingertips, coiled against his cheek and along his shoulder. Hux expected to be yanked back, but he wasn’t. He expected the touch of it to be slimy, wet, cold, but it wasn’t. It was gentle, almost warm, and so unbelievably  _ Kylo _ that he couldn’t quite understand how he had never noticed it in the Knight’s presence before. 

“Why do I…?”

“It’s the fox,” Kylo replied, voice more a rumble than real speech. Hux’s more sensitive ears were rather pleased by the pitch.

“I’m not an animal,” Hux protested, before he truly forgot himself.

Kylo’s smile became something softer. “We’re both animals. You’ve just…” His brow creased as he hunted for the words. “You’re two now, at the same time. Not something crude like a mutation. It’s more than that.” 

Hux’s eyes narrowed, and he ignored the urge beneath his consciousness that wanted to curl up on the bed and sleep. Kylo’s ancient wizardry was earning him a headache. “You need to solve this. Bring whatever infuriating trinket it was, do whatever you need to do, I want this fixed before my next shift.” Hux shooed Kylo off his bed, and when he was sure he was alone, tucked himself into bed.

No amount of squirming or shifting or rolling over could get him comfortable. Covers on, covers off, nothing. Not until he tucked his knees up and burrowed into the pillow so that his ear wasn’t crushed. He huffed, and the whole thing smelled like Ren. His belly tingled. He felt the fur at the base of his tail stand on end, and the sensation traveled up his spine. It called back the feeling of pressure and heat he felt when Kylo had coaxed the thing out of his body. That made his cock twitch heavily between his naked thighs.

Hux wasn’t quite sure how he ended up with his knees under his hips, hand tucked between them to squeeze his filling cock. The new, different skin of his fingertips was a little rough on his flesh, but it was a rush. He shivered, letting go of himself to paw at his bedside table, digging through the contents until he found the lube he was looking for. Hux was not one to jack himself dry, and he wasn’t about to start now, even though he was positively drooling at the memory of Kylo’s warm hands.

He gripped himself tighter, starting to enjoy the feeling of claws and pads on his straining cock. Hux pressed his face into the pillow to muffle the sounds falling from his open mouth. He was whining, and there was no way around it. His tail arched up behind him, and he fucked into his fist. There was something lingering in the scent on his pillow, damp now with his spit, that stoked the curling flame of arousal in his gut. Something thick and heavy, squirming like the worms he had seen. And like how the Force had felt, it was just as unbelievably  _ Kylo _ .

Fur prickled, bristled, and Hux felt it crawling up his spine, then back down, where his tail flicked. His free hand squirmed up, pressed between his chest and the bed. Whatever drove him to rub his nipples was a blessing, and he keened embarrassingly into the pillow. The horrific blend of paw-pad and fingertip had no business feeling that good on his skin, no business spiking pleasure through his body. It did, though, and Hux was drowning in it.

He bit into the pillow, surprised by his own orgasm. It ripped out of him, and left him shaking, choking on each breath. Hux licked his teeth and flopped down on his side, trying to regain control of his diaphragm. 

Kylo had been right. It didn’t hurt. He’d been used to the back pain, his mouth aching, fingers throbbing, so used to it that he hadn’t noticed it stopped. Hadn’t noticed until he was left in the wake of the endorphins with a sticky hand and the sharp, pungent smell of his release. He moved away from his mess, and from the drool soaked pillow.

Eventually, he got up to clean himself off, and this time, Hux couldn’t avoid the mirror. He stared at the thing looking back at him in the harsh light of the ‘Fresher. His eyes were nearly unrecognizable. The same icy blue-green iris, but instead of the round, human pupil, he was caught by little ovular shapes. Gold flecks ringed them, contracting with each shift of focus. The rest of the shape was all wrong, lids slitted, rimmed with black flesh like a wild fox’s eyes.

His lips had blackened, gums too, so his teeth stood out like white knives. Tongue duller, still pink, but broad, flat, almost too much for his mouth. Hux felt sick. His ears twitched, and he watched them fold back against his hair. Shaking fingers reached up, touching the cool glass of the mirror, pad squishing out around the claw at the tip of each one. Whatever fleeting thing had driven him to pleasure was chased out by what he saw, and it left Hux hollow in the scary, hungry kind of way.

Hux flinched away from the mirror, feeling his tail fluff up behind him. It was bristling with anxiety, and beneath that, fear. He was gripped by the idea that he had no control over what had happened, what was still slowly happening to his body. He’d  _ gotten off _ because of these changes. 

Not mutation, Kylo had said. But if not that, then what was it? Hux swiped off the light, and tried to ignore the way his claws clicked on the floor as he walked back to bed. He tore the soiled covers off, and climbed onto the mostly naked mattress, willing his hands to stop jittering. It didn’t work. Hux curled up, tail tucking close to his thigh as he tried to hide himself in the other pillow - the clean pillow. He tried to will himself to sleep. It didn’t work either. His entire consciousness was shaking. His body was foreign, but familiar. Different, sensitive, and absolutely othering. The speed in which he had adapted to an entirely new limb terrified him. The fact that it didn’t feel wrong brushing against his leg truly scared him. He was himself, but not his body, but Hux couldn’t remove himself from it.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr as the same name; kylocatastrophe  
> there's at least one other chapter. hue hue


End file.
